Music Man
by celtics534
Summary: Some people express themselves through heartfelt talks and some turn to music. Moments throughout Harry's life where music helped him cope and live.
1. Perfect

**The idea for this came to me when someone showed me some of Blvnk-Art (which is incredible) over on Tumblr. It was an image of Teddy playing the guitar. Mix that with all the posts from various people claiming Harry would just do things because it was funny or to mock his relatives. I liked the idea of Harry finding some way to express himself through something other than yelling. I plan on doing some family moments in the future, such as Lily bringing home a boy for the first time. Which is why this is also marked with the family tag.**

* * *

"Harry, you're never going to use it. It's such a waste of your money," Hermione's mothering tone always reminded Harry of homework. Well, the homework he skived off till the last minute. Now, at the ripe old age of nineteen, one would figure he would be free of Hermione's nagging, but someone doesn't change overnight they say.

The object of her distain was a Fender Classic Acoustic Guitar. He Hermione, and Ron had been wandering through the streets of Muggle London when Hermione had requested they visit a thrift shop a few streets down. The boys had agreed, semi-grudgingly, but in the end, had enjoyed the merchandise available. Harry had been partially enchanted with the dark, wooden guitar. The way the neck seemed to gleam in the light of the room… If he was completely honest with himself, Harry had always found the idea of learning an instrument enticing. While in primary school, most of the children could study a musical instrument. Dudley had chosen the drums, so he could hit something. Harry, however, had not been allowed to join the class, because his aunt and uncle hadn't "trusted him with such expensive equipment".

Then, while at Hogwarts, Harry had bigger issues than learning how to actually play the flute Hagrid had given him in his first year. Not to mention he always imagined himself as more of a guitar man. He had the slim fingers that were ideal to move up and down the strings.

Harry had his own money, he had his own flat, he had some free time… why not learn to play the guitar? When Harry mentioned the idea to Ron, he had just slapped him on the back and wished him luck. Hermione, however, seemed to think the idea of him learning the guitar preposterous, something Harry took rather offensively.

"Hermione," Harry tried to keep his voice level. "I think it would be nice to learn something that isn't used for fighting Dark wizards."

Ron snorted. "Well, you could try to use it in a fight. Maybe if the bad guy hears your singing they will surrender."

"Why would they surrender?"

"Well, mate," Ron shuffled his feet. "I've never heard you sing, but I doubt you're like that Mitchel Jason Hermione keeps mentioning."

"Michael Jackson, Ron," Hermione correctly automatically. She then turned her attention to Harry again. "Harry, it just seems frivolous."

Harry glared at his two friends. "First of all, Ron, I wouldn't have to sing. I could just learn to play songs without words. Secondly, Hermione, it's my money I can do what I please with it."

Ron gave him a smug smile that Harry wanted to punch off his face. "Sure thing, mate. What would be the point without having some lyrics? People who play the guitar always seem to sing as well."

"Not always," Harry claimed. "The guitarist for the Weird Sister's doesn't sing."

"She does backup vocals though, and the main singer can also play the guitar."

"So maybe I'll learn how to sing well, along with figuring out how to play the guitar." Harry was started to feel real annoyance. Now he really wanted to get the guitar just to spite his two friends.

"I'll bet on that," Ron claimed.

"On what?"

"You learning to sing and play guitar." Ron grabbed the guitar from its rack on the floor and handed it to Harry. "We'll make it a little gamble. How long do you think it will take you to learn to play well? Two years? Three years?"

"Er…" Harry didn't really know how long it would take him to be any good at the guitar. In his mind he had the rest of his life, now Voldemort was gone, to practice, but now his pride was in question and his stubbornness had taken hold. "About three years or so."

"Alright, so how about this, you have three years from today to perform a song… how about at the Burrow? That way we can have multiple listeners and everyone can vote on how well you do."

Sweat started to form on Harry's palms, but he raised his chin defiantly. "Okay, you're on. What happens if I forfeit or completely bollock it up?"

"This is so stupid –" Hermione started to say but Ron overrode her, "How about you have to pay for me and Hermione to go on holiday for a weekend."

Harry's eye brow rose, as Hermione flushed. "And if I serenade you all?"

Ron arrogant smile returned. "If you can impress more than… let's say five people, not including Ginny or Mum because you have them wrapped around your finger, I'll pay for you to go on holiday for a weekend."

"Me and Ginny," Harry bargained. Ron's smile fell as he gave his best mate his "brotherly glare", as Ginny called it. Though he accepted his and Ginny's relationship, Ron liked to live in denial about their physical relationship… Not that Harry minded, he had no desire to discuss sex with his girlfriend's brother, even if the brother was his best mate.

"Fine, you and Ginny," Ron conceded. He cocked his head to side, looking at the instrument in Harry's hands, then a mischievous grin, that Harry had always admired in Fred and George, came to Ron. "How about we up the stakes?"

Harry looked at his friend quizzically. "How so?"

"If you can write your own song and preform it and get the five votes, I'll send you on holiday for a week, where ever you want. No help writing it, however, it has to be your own work"

That was incredible tempting. A week away, just him and Ginny. Maybe somewhere warm where she could wear one of those skimpy swim costumes… Yeah, that would be nice. "What if I don't get the votes on the song I wrote?" Harry asked, making sure he knew the all the terms of Ron's bet.

"Simple, you send me and Hermione away for a week, wherever we want."

Hermione was shaking her head, but remained quiet. Clearly, she had given up on bringing any of her logic into their conversation. Ron still had the self-satisfied smile, obviously doubting his best mate's song writing ability. To be fair, Harry had never been great at writing essays at Hogwarts, so he doubted he would be good at writing songs, but he didn't have to write his own song necessarily. He could just use someone else's song and still win a free weekend away with Ginny.

Harry stuck out his head. "It's a deal."

Ron grasped the outstretched hand and shook it enthusiastically. "Well, you best go purchase that and get home to practice. Three years will fly by before you know it."

 **XXXXXXXXXXXXXXxxxxxXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Ron hadn't been wrong about the years flying by. Between his career as an Auror, helping to raise Teddy, having a professional Quidditch player as a girlfriend, Harry lacked free time. However, he made sure to practice his guitar every night, unless he was away on a case. Even if it was only thirty minutes, he made sure to practice a new cord, rhythm or accompaniment. If Ginny spent the night, she would sometimes sit in the room with him, listening to his repeated tries to play selected songs.

When he had bought the guitar, he had also purchased some books explaining the cords and how the strings can combine to make pleasing sounds. They also had songs to rehearse, old Muggle classics like _Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star_ and _Froggy Went a Courtin'_. He also made sure to learn some song he could use in the bet, he enjoyed classic rock songs such as _Carry on My Wayward Son_ and _Hit Me with Your Best Shot_. Their cords weren't difficult to perfect and Muggle rock artists didn't always have the greatest voices, so he wasn't too worried about the singing portion.

However, Harry wanted to completely prove Ron wrong, so he did decide to write his own song. He would spend late nights sitting in his living room, a fire blazing, strumming cords, working with anything he could draw inspiration from. One night, when he was with Ginny, he made real progress. She had claimed his couch, spread out, a book floating in the air above her as she read.

The sight of her… she was incredible and she had chosen him. Why she put up with him, he never could understand? He was a moody, workaholic and she was a spirited, strong, temptress who could be with anyone she wanted. She had dealt with him for years now, from back in a time when he was bitter about the world and the prophesy, to now when he was annoyed with his name being dragged in the papers. Even more, she dealt with her name being dragged through the mud because she was with him.

If he had it his way they would stay like this forever, comfortably laying around his flat. Free to be themselves. They could talk with one another for hours, lay in each other's arms in front of the fire, be together in any way they desired. Then, just like the Knight Bus, out of nowhere and fast, he knew he wanted Ginny. He wanted to have that dream of being together forever. She would be his and he would be hers.

It was a stroke of genius, his hand moving across the parchment starting to form phrases and lines. He knew what he wanted to say, who he wanted to say it too, and how he wanted it to end.

Ginny looked away from her book, to see why his quill was scratching so loudly. "How's it going over there, music man?" Her voice was filled with humor as she smiled at her boyfriend.

"Great. I've decided to write my own song for that bet with Ron," Harry informed her, not looking up from his writing."

"When is that due, anyways?"

"Three weeks."

Ginny smiled. "At my birthday party, huh? Are you going to serenade me for my present?" She had said it in a joking manner, but that had been Harry's intention when he started writing.

He decided to play it off, however. "If you would like it to be."

"Well, I don't know if it can beat the new Firebolt you gave me last year, but sure."

"Alright," was all Harry said and continued to write down his thoughts before they left his mind.

 **XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXxxxxxXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"So, Ginny told me that you wrote her a song for her present," Hermione said, taking the empty seat next to Harry. All the Weasleys had gathered at the Burrow to celebrate Ginny's twenty-first birthday. Everyone lounged around the warm lawn, talking and eating Mrs. Weasley's delicious food.

Harry nodded. His guitar sat to his left side. He had finished the song only last night. He had stayed up late, perfecting the rhymes and the progression of his cords. Though his stomach was filled with fluttering wings, he was also highly anticipating Ron's stunned expression.

"Well, I'm looking forward to it," Hermione smiled at him. "As much as I disagreed with the purchase at first, you have used it quite a bit. Not to mention I want Ron to stop being so smug about it all." She moved in closer to his ear. "He already has his holiday spot picked. As much as I want to go on holiday, I would rather you prove him wrong."

"Thanks, Hermione," Harry told her sincerely, "I would love to prove him wrong as well."

Hermione laughed. "So, how was the song writing process?"

"Honestly…" Harry thought about it for a moment. "I didn't think anything would come to me, but the words came out of nowhere. I just wrote what I was feeling."

"That's incredible, Harry. Well, I hope everyone likes it. You need at least five votes, without Ginny or Molly."

"Yeah, but that leaves you, Arthur, Fleur, Bill, Percy, Audrey, George, Angelina, Arthur, Andromeda. Do you think Teddy and Victoire count?"

"I don't see why not. They can tell bad from good even at a young age."

"So, I only really need half of the people here to like it."

Hermione smiled and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "I'm sure you will get Fleur's approval if it's a love song, she's very sentimental that way."

Harry laughed, just as Molly called for present opening. The Weasleys and their significant others all gathered around a table set out in the garden. Harry took a chair next to Ginny. Now that the time was approaching the fluttering turned into something more extreme, his hands seemed clammy and his face felt slightly flushed.

Ron glanced over at him periodically, his smile growing wider and wider. Ginny had only just unwrapped her final gift, a pair of dragon hide gloves Charlie had sent from Romania, when Ron said, "Well, that's everyone…except Harry. Mate, what did you get Ginny?" He put on such an innocent act that only people who knew about their bet, that being himself, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, would know he was fishing for the bet.

Hermione shook her head at her boyfriend's actions, but smiled at Harry, trying to send her encouragement. Ginny glared daggers at her brother, but also let Harry defend himself.

"You're right, Ron," Harry tried to keep his voice from wavering, "You didn't see my present on the table, because I have a special gift for her." He stood and brought his guitar over from his original seat.

George was grinning from ear to hole. "You're gonna play a song? The Chosen One can play guitar?" He looked over at Angelina. "How the hell didn't he have more girls fawning over him at Hogwarts?"

Angelina looked at her new fiancée. "Most of us girls on the Gryffindor Quidditch team had a thing for Harry at one point."

Harry was momentarily distracted. "Wait… Really?"

Angelina nodded. "Oh yeah, but we all knew you fancied Cho."

Ginny rolled her eyes. Harry decided it was time to move on, he didn't want to talk about Cho. "Anyways, yeah, I can play guitar. Actually, I wrote this song."

"Merlin," George muttered. "If _Witch Weekly_ knew about this."

No one seemed to pay George any mind however, all eyes were focused on Harry. If he hadn't been nervous before, he would be feeling it now. He positioned the strap over his shoulder and placed his fingers in the starting position of the E cord. Slowly he began, trying to forget about everyone watching him.

 _I found a love for me_

He moved from E to C with easy, having practiced for the last few weeks. He let his mind focus on the cords. He didn't want to remember this wasn't his private study where no one could hear him.

 _Darling, just dive right in  
And follow my lead  
Well, I found a girl beautiful and sweet  
I never knew you were the someone waiting for me  
'Cause we were just kids when we fell in love_

Harry refused to look up from his guitar. He felt self-conscious about his singing voice, but no one was saying anything, and Harry figured if he really did sound awful George would boo him, maybe even throw tomatoes.

 _Not knowing what it was  
I will not give you up this time  
But darling, just kiss me slow, your heart is all I own  
And in your eyes, you're holding mine_

 _Baby, I'm dancing in the dark with you between my arms  
Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favorite song  
When you said you looked a mess, I whispered underneath my breath  
But you heard it, darling, you look perfect tonight_

 _Well, I found a woman, stronger than anyone I know  
She shares my dreams, I hope that someday I'll share her home  
I found a love, to carry more than just my secrets  
To carry love, to carry children of our own  
We are still kids, but we're so in love  
Fighting against all odds  
I know we'll be alright this time  
Darling, just hold my hand  
Be my girl, I'll be your man  
I see my future in your eyes_

He couldn't prevent himself from taking a peak from his guitar. The only person he looked for was Ginny. In his split-second look he could see a brightness in her eyes. She must have been trying so hard not to laugh, that tears had sprung to her eyes.

 _Baby, I'm dancing in the dark, with you between my arms  
Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favorite song  
When I saw you in that dress, looking so beautiful  
I don't deserve this, darling, you look perfect tonight_

He took a moment to focus on the guitar, calming himself. Going from G to Em to C then D. He took a deep breath before finishing.

 _Baby, I'm dancing in the dark, with you between my arms  
Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favorite song  
I have faith in what I see  
Now I know I have met an angel in person  
And she looks perfect  
I don't deserve this  
You look perfect tonight_

Harry strummed his final note, but kept his eyes down cast. The garden was silent except for the sound of bugs' wings whizzing by. Then, the echo of someone putting their hands together made Harry look up. George was applauding, and not in a mocking tone. His face was serious and impressed. Then Bill joined, as did Fleur. Eventually, the entire table was clapping, except for Ginny.

Ginny was just watching him, those brown eyes he adored flecked with unshed moisture. "Harry," her voice sounded choked, "that was… incredible." No one was clapping anymore, they were watching the couple.

Finally, Harry's nerves started to dissipate, until he remembered the other task at hand. "Ginny, I may not be the best at expressing myself, but I love you." Harry pulled the guitar over his head and set it on the lawn. "And if you'll have me, I would like to marry you." He reached into his pocket and retrieved the ring he had found in his family vault two years ago.

The once unshed emotion now flowed down Ginny's cheeks. Harry remained standing watching her, waiting for her to say something… anything. Then finally she said, keeping her eyes trained on the ring sitting in the palm of his hand. "What have you done to me, Harry James? I've never been a weepy girl. Here you go preforming such a beautiful song, and then you think it's the time to propose to me?"

"Uhh… Yes?" Harry wasn't sure if there was a correct response to this situation, it was unknown ground. Ginny started to chuckle as she met his eyes. She stood, and pulled him into a fierce embrace. "Can I take this for a yes?" Harry asked hopefully.

Ginny started to laugh harder. "Of course, it's a yes, you prat." She leaned up and kissed him hard. Harry could hear sniffling and the sounds of someone sobbing, but he had more pressing thoughts on his mind. When they separated, Harry looked over Ginny's head at his soon to be in-laws. Arthur was beaming, holding his wife as she seemed to be the cause of the sobbing. All of Ginny's brothers were smiling too.

Ron was the first person to speak, "Well, I guess I'll be paying for your honeymoon, mate."

Harry grinned at his best friend. "Yeah, that sounds fair."

Ginny pulled back from her new fiancée and turned to face her youngest brother. "You bet you will, for a song like that… you're sending us on a two-week holiday, not just the one you thought you could get away with."

Ron put his hands up in surrender. "Sure, Gin."

As the years passed by, Harry would regularly take out the guitar and play nonsense rifts. Especially after the kids were born, something they found entertaining when they were young. They would jump around as he would play a frantically paced beat. As they aged however, they found their father playing the intro to any Muggle pop song just frankly embarrassing. Sometimes Harry would purposely pick a song that would annoy his children.

Harry would still write down any songs that came to his mind. Most revolved around Ginny and their family. His first day as a married man. Ginny having a miscarriage. The first time he had ever felt James Sirius move in his wife's stomach. Holding his daughter for the first time. Watching Arthur fall ill and pass away. His fiftieth anniversary. Ron dying from a heart attack at eighty. Harry would commemorate moments in his life with songs, but none he held as dear as his first song… To him it was perfect and said everything he wanted.

When Ginny fell ill three days after her one hundredth and sixth birthday, he pulled out his guitar and played her song, though it hurt his old fingers. He wanted her to always remember his love for her. When she passed a day later, Harry held his guitar close. If he had the energy he would have written a song, but no, he just held close the memories. When he died four days later he arrived at the Burrow, the version of the Burrow he had seen at age twelve. There in the back garden was Ginny, watching and waiting for him with a joyous smile. She looked just as she did at twenty-one, beautiful and full of life. He rushed over and brought her close to him.

"Hello, my love," Ginny said keeping him held to her tightly.

"I've missed you," Harry claimed into her hair.

"I've missed you, too. Will you… will you play my song for me?" Harry looked up and noticed his Fender Classic sitting on the grass.

"Of course." He disentangled himself and picked up the guitar, positioning his fingers to start with a E cord.

* * *

 **If you have any suggestions please leave feel free to send me a message or leave a review with your song suggest. The song in this particular chapter is Ed Sheeran's _Perfect._ A song I highly recommend. **


	2. Small Bump

**Warning: sensitive topic ahead. The song is _Small Bump_ by Ed Sheeran**

* * *

"Mr. Potter, are you alright?" Healer Wright spoke through the disbelief that was clouding Harry's hearing. Though he had his glasses on Harry's vision was also blurred. It was as if his senses were dissolving.

How? When? What? His mind couldn't form a single coherent thought.

Beside him Ginny, his wife of only four months, didn't look any better. Her mouth was agape, eyes the size of galleons, and her breath shallow. Clearly, she hadn't known either. That helped pull Harry out of his own thoughts, ever so slightly at least. He started to shake his head, like a dog trying to get rid of water in its ear.

"Mrs. Potter, do you have any questions?" Healer Wright had obviously given Harry up as a bad job and turned his attention to Ginny.

Ginny closed her mouth, gulping loudly. "Uh, yeah. How long?"

"Our test would estimate about ten weeks."

Ginny glanced over at her husband, only to be receive a blank uncomprehending stare. Turning back to the healer, she stumbled over her question, "Why – how?"

Wright smiled sympathetically, nodding his understanding of her discombobulated question. "You're wondering why you didn't know you were pregnant?"

A pink tinge started to creep up Ginny's cheeks as she nodded. Their healer gave a small chuckle. "It's quite common actually. Some woman can go through an entire pregnancy without knowing." Healer Wright gave another laugh at Ginny's appalled expression. "Oh yes, I've seen it a few times, actually." He grabbed the clipboard at the end of Ginny's bed. "Have you been feeling nauseated? Any certain smells been making you feel ill? What about your breasts? Have they felt more tender?"

Ginny's mouth fell open again. Harry thought about it for a moment. There had been that incident a few nights ago… when Harry had ambushed Ginny in the shower, she had winced as his hands had roamed over her breasts. At the time she had claimed she was sore all over from practice, but every other part of her body had seemed fine.

Then when he had made breakfast before Ginny's match this morning, she had complained he had burnt the eggs, asking him to chuck the offending food away. Of course, at the time he had thought nothing of it. He figured he had been a little _distracted_ while cooking, so the possibilities of having over cooked eggs was high. It was that damn jersey. No matter how many times he saw Ginny in her Holyhead Harpies kit, his name covering her back… It did things to his mind. So, in the end they had settled on toast.

Mutely, Ginny nodded towards the healer. Healer Wright wrote down another few notes. "Well, between your rigorous exercise schedule and height, your weight is slightly less than normal, but everything seems perfectly fine. Though we may want to increase your daily intake." Healer Wright took a few moments to collect all his findings from earlier.

"Alright, Mrs. Potter, I would like to get you all set up with a maternity healer, start you on some natal potions. All normal procedure," Wright consoled as he saw Ginny's stiffen. "Nothing to be concerned over. How about I go find Healer Young for you." Healer Wright placed Ginny's records back at the end of the bed and walked towards the door. Right before he pushed it open he turned back to the still stunned couple, and said, "By the way, congratulations!"

Harry barely noticed the door swing shut behind Healer Wright. His mind felt as if it were caught in a snare. Becoming more tangled while struggling to escape. Ginny was pregnant. He threw the word around a few times. Pregnant. Pregnant. How did this happen? They were always careful. Except… Harry's mind thought back to just over two months ago. The Harpies had destroyed their rivals, Puddlemere United, spectacularly. Ginny had scored the game winning goal, right before Puddlemere's Seeker caught the Snitch. That night he and Ginny had their own spectacular _celebration_.

A sudden thought hit Harry like a Bludger out of nowhere, knocking the wind right out of his lungs. Quidditch! There was no way Ginny could play pregnant. Quidditch was a brutal game normally. Hell, that's why they were in St. Mungo's today. Ginny had been knocked off her broom and fell twenty feet. Luckily for Ginny, the referee had cast a slowing charm on her. It could have been so much worse, but bloody hell! Harry worried about Ginny playing with all those overzealous sexist gits, aiming at her due to her raw talent, but now… Now his child – his child – was inside of her. How could he stand back and let her walk onto that pitch where gits like Williams would make it their personal goal to knock her to the ground?

"Well," Ginny had turned to look at him, slightly paler than normal, but her eyes had mercifully returned to their normal size. "That's a surprise for us." Her bottom lip had taken refuge between her teeth.

Harry knew Ginny was trying to help him by bring humor into the situation, but all he could do was stare back at her. His mouth was bone dry from being exposed to air for so long. The saying "close your mouth or you'll catch flies," came to mind, but Harry just seemed unable to connect his lips. Ginny started to shake her head. "Merlin, Harry, say something please!" She was starting to get angry, but there was still a sense of desperation in her plea. Harry knew the warning signs, and finally the fog that had clouded over all of Harry's senses dissipated.

"Merlin," he breathed.

Ginny's expression lightened, red cheeks fading to pink. "Very articulate, Darling," she drawled, running an anxious hand through her hair. "Holy shit! Harry, what are we gonna do?"

Harry shook his head, still trying to keep in the present. "I – I don't really know." Harry scooted his uncomfortable hospital chair closer to Ginny's bed, locking his hand with hers. He may not know what they were going to do, or what to say, but he knew they needed each other. Now more than ever, if they were going to get through this.

Ginny moved her body so there was room for him to join her up on the bed, which he gratefully accepted. She placed her head on his chest, hands still joined, both letting silence surround them. Was he really ready to be a father? He only just became a husband. A father was so much more. He would be responsible for another life… Sure he had done the whole saving the world thing, but this… this felt different, but just as stressful.

A knock on the door broke the quiet. A tall, dark, brown-haired woman entered. She had a pleasant smile on her face as she approached the couple. "Hello, Potters!" Her voice was enthusiastic as she reached Ginny's chart. "My name is Margaret Young." Healer Young started to explain her credentials, which meant nothing to Harry. Ginny's hand felt clammy, or was that his? "So, how are we doing today? I heard you had a little fall today, Mrs. Potter." Ginny's head raised slightly off Harry's chest so she could nod. "Well, everything looks fine according to Healer Wrights' findings. However, I would like to take a more in depth look at the baby, is that alright?" Again, Ginny nodded her agreement. "Perfect. Mr. Potter if I could ask you to move back into the chair."

Harry pressed a kiss to the crown of Ginny's head, before returning to his original seat, making sure he was still holding his wife's hand like a lifeline. The Healer then pulled out her wand. "Now Mrs. Potter, I'm going to cast a charm that will allow us to see the fetus. There is going to be a tightening feeling and your stomach will feel like I've dumped ice onto it, but that's all just part of the spell. Are you ready?"

Ginny looked anything but ready. In all honestly, she looked more frightened than Harry had ever seen, but she nodded to the healer. Healer Younger pointed her wand directly at the center of Ginny's stomach and muttered an incantation Harry had never heard. A dim white mist-like substance flowed out of the tip of the wand, almost like the beginning of a Patronus, then slowly the mist took shape over Ginny's stomach, becoming humanoid, magically increased to a size that could be recognized and understood.

It was odd to think that all humans started this way, or at least Harry thought it was. The fetus looked almost if it was sitting, lounging really, it's tiny hands joined in a prayer. Harry could make out a head, fingers, toes; hell, from its current position he could see a tiny ear-looking amenity. There was no doubt this little being was the start of a human. Another person. A baby Harry had helped to create.

Never had Harry felt such an instant connection to something or someone. Sure, when he had received his Firebolt in his third year, he had been excited beyond belief, but it never had meaning until he had gotten to know Sirius. Even his friendship with Ron had taken a few hours to really come alive. This little form, however - this tiny presence – held so much meaning to him.

The idea of love at first sight was always preposterous to Harry. Love was something that grew and formed as you started to understand the person in question, but Harry was in love. He loved this little, humanoid creature unconditionally. He would do anything to protect it. To care for it.

Harry looked over to Ginny, not knowing how to tell her what he was feeling. He wanted her to understand how much love he felt for her and this… their future child. Ginny was watching the mist before them, her mouth twisted in a bemused, but adoring smile all the same. Harry encircled Ginny's hand with both of his, bring her knuckles up to his lips, kissing them lightly.

"Ah, everything looks excellent, you'll be happy to know that your fall did nothing to harm the baby, but I'm sure Healer Wright already told you that. Now keep in mind that I have enlarged the picture, so you could get a clear view of your baby. Really the fetus is much smaller than this, maybe three and a quarter centimeters. Now I'm going to listen to the heartbeat." Young twisted her wand and a rapid thumping and thudding filled the room. The healer took a moment to listen. "Everything sounds great as well! Would you like a photo?" Healer Young asked kindly. Harry felt himself nod, seeing Ginny doing the same from the corner of his eye. The healer spun her wand in a circle and the image of Harry's child was gone. A feeling of lost hit Harry like a tidal wave. He wanted the picture back. He wanted to stare at the at the small, unborn being for as long as his eyes would stay open.

Young waved her wand once again and a paper square materialized. She handed it to Ginny, who took with trembling fingers. Harry leaned over so he could see his child again. The image astounded him. That was his child. His own flesh and blood, that was current residing in his wife's stomach. Harry looked up at Ginny's face. Unshed tears had accumulated in her beautiful brown eyes, a sight that was rare. He pressed a light kiss on her cheek, making sure she knew he was there… making sure she knew he was feeling it, too.

Harry had no idea what they were going to do, but he knew that everything in the future revolved around the subject of this little photograph. It was crazy to think how fast his life had changed. Only a few hours ago he had been watching his wife play Quidditch, and now she was the mother to his unborn child.

Young was watching them, waiting for the couple to return from their own little world. "Mrs. Potter, I'm going to write you a prescription for three potions. All of which should be taken every morning, until twenty weeks. Healer Wright mentioned that you do lack the average weight gain, for this far along, but these potions should help that."

Ginny look up from the entrancing photo and nodded. "What about Quidditch?"

"Well, I tend to recommend staying on the ground from twelve weeks and on. How many games do you have left in the season?"

"Two, plus playoffs if we score more than six hundred and twenty within those games."

Young looked up from her prescription pad, and gave Ginny a gentle smile "Well, Mrs. Potter, I would say you could play those final two games, but playoffs would be unadvised." Harry watched his wife's face fall. This was the first year the Harpies had a shot at winning the championship, since she had joined the team. Harry couldn't help but feel guilty. Logically he knew he couldn't do anything to change what had happened, but he hated seeing his wife look so disappointed. Young took in the glum face of her charge and said, "But if you really want to play I have a spell that can protect the baby. However, it will only work until sixteen weeks maximum, understand?"

"Yes, I understand," Ginny claimed, head nodding rapidly, as Healer Young tore the paper from the pad and handed the slip too Ginny.

"Excellent! Now you can either get these potions from our apothecary or your preferred shop. I would also like to see you in about two weeks, that way we can discuss the Quidditch situation again. How would the eighteenth work for you?"

"Uh, fine."

"Great! It was wonderful to meet you both and I would like to assure you we will remained tight lipped about this appointment. Both Healer Wright and I will say nothing," Healer Young smiled at the couple. "Congratulations and see you on the eighteenth."

Harry understood the dismissal. He helped Ginny get out of the bed and together they walked to the door, the photo still clutched in Ginny's hands.

* * *

A little over a month had gone by before Harry had even known it. Five weeks filled with confusion, joy, disconcerting unknown, and delight. Harry had watched his wife's stomach change slowly, but surely. A small bump had risen from her normally toned abdomen. If he didn't know what to look for, he wouldn't have noticed.

Harry loved to run his hands along the small curve of bump. It made everything feel so real. That picture they had seen was really their child, still growing, closer and closer to being out in the world. Out with them.

Over the last four weeks he and Ginny had discussed the future at great lengths. Harry's career, Ginny's career, their flat (which was cramped with only the two of them, so imagine a baby mixed in), when to tell the family. Even with all those taxing and tough talks, they still found themselves dreamily debating who their child would be like. Would he or she have jet black hair like their father? Ginny's eyes? Freckles? Harry loved lying in bed, Ginny resting her head on his chest, discussing their future child.

Harry couldn't believe how excited he felt. He understood the nerves and the anxiety he was feeling, but he just couldn't fathom how much he was really looking forward to having a child of his own. Growing up he never felt like he really had a family, the Dursleys made sure of that. Then Ron had brought him into the world of the Weasleys. They treated him like a son, even before he married Ginny. Then five months ago he gained a wife, a companion for the rest of his life. The love of his life. Now she had given him a child. They had gone from husband and wife, to a small family, and he loved them more than he could even understand.

With the Harpies in the playoffs, Ginny's training schedule had become more hectic than normal, though Ginny had taken Gwenog aside and discussed her situation. Jones hadn't been ecstatic, but with the spell Healer Young gave her, Ginny was still able to play, which seemed to soothe the Harpies captain, just not to full capacity.

Now here Harry was, sitting in the small room he used as an office, staring at paperwork he needed to sign over to Robards, Ginny off at practice. He just couldn't stop himself from thinking about Ginny. About their future. About their future child. How did other people remain a functioning part of society when they were expecting a baby? He couldn't focus on dull paperwork when he had so many other pressing, and interesting, thoughts rolling around his mind.

For the fifth time that hour his eyes drifted over into the corner of the room, where his Fender Classic sat. Procrastinating, like he was still at school, Harry picked up the guitar and started to tune it. Before his wedding Harry had been struck with inspiration, wanting to write something for Ginny. Wanting her to understand how he saw their future. He had played it for her the first night of their honeymoon. She lying in the muddled sheets of their king size bed in the hotel room; water crashing against the sand, creating a lethargic beat.

Since then he hadn't even really thought about this instrument. Now though… it felt right to strum a few chords, maybe reacquaint himself with the way the strings felt against his calloused fingers. Starting with a simple G then A he moved with ease, muscle memory leading the way.

Harry had no idea how long he played for. It didn't matter, really. He went from note to note: C to G to D. It wasn't until he went to Em playing various strings on that simple chord, that inspiration hit. The second two strings, open top, third, fourth, ending with a slap to the entirety of the strings. It created a simple, but hypnotic sound. He then started to add other chords Cadd9, G, D/F#. He was amazed with how nostalgic it sounded, but yet, held a deeper richer feel.

He placed the guitar against his desk and grabbed out a quill and piece of parchment. Maybe he could write something to sing to the baby once it was born? The guitar melody he had just made was soothing enough that it could lull someone to sleep if played slowly enough, but Harry figured it would be nice to have words to accompany the guitar.

Time lost all essence as he worked. He thought about the fears he was feeling, the thrill, everything he was hoping for his family's future. It wasn't until Ginny's voice spoke from the doorway that Harry withdrew himself from his project. "Look at you go, Potter! What are you writing with such gumption?" Looking up from the messy parchment, Harry watched Ginny approach him, wrapping her arms around his neck and resting her chin on the top of his head.

Harry wasn't sure how to explain what had come over him. He had eight verses messily written out with multiple crossings out, but there was a potential song sitting in front of him. Ginny, however, didn't seem to need his pitiful attempt at an explanation, she could read it all.

"Harry," Ginny's voice was low and quiet, alarming Harry. He tilted his head, making Ginny support her own weight, but allowing him to see overly bright brown eyes. "That's lovely. Do you already have a sound for it?"

Mutely, Harry nodded. Ginny placed a soft hand on his cheek, subconsciously making Harry lean towards her. "Will you play it for me?" She asked.

"I haven't really put the two together, yet," Harry started to protest, but the look on Ginny's face made he stop. He could tell she didn't care what they sounded like together, even if it was like nails on a chalk board. She just wanted to listen to those words out loud. Taking in a deep breath he stood from his chair and grabbed the spare seat from the corner, placing it behind Ginny. She gratefully took his offering, smile growing wider and wider.

Harry took the guitar from its resting position and settled it on his lap as he sat back down. He placed his fingers for a Em chord, trying to keep in mind how he imagined the lyrics and strings going together. Taking in another large breath he started to strum, keeping his eyes down, watching his fingers.

 _You're just a small bump unborn, in four months you're brought to life  
You might be left with my hair, but you'll have your mother's eyes  
I'll hold your body in my hands, be as gentle as I can  
But for now you're scan of my unmade plans,  
A small bump in four months you're brought to life  
A small bump in four months you'll open your eyes_

 _I'll whisper quietly, I'll give you nothing but truth  
I'll hold you tightly, I'll give you nothing but truth  
If you're not inside me, I'll put my future in you_

 _You are my one and only  
You can wrap your fingers round my thumb and hold me tight  
Oh, you are my one and only_

 _You can wrap your fingers round my thumb and hold me tight  
And you'll be alright_

 _Oh, you're just a small bump unknown, you'll grow into your skin  
With a smile like hers and a dimple beneath your chin  
Fingernails the size of a half grain of rice  
And eyelids closed to be soon opened wide  
A small bump, in four months you'll open your eyes_

 _And I'll hold you tightly, I'll tell you nothing but truth  
And I'll hold you tightly, I'll give you nothing but truth  
If you're not inside me, I'll put my future in you_

 _You are my one and only  
You can wrap your fingers round my thumb and hold me tight  
Oh, you are my one and only  
You can wrap your fingers round my thumb and hold me tight  
And you'll be alright_

 _And you can lie with me  
With your tiny feet  
When you're half asleep  
I'll leave you be  
Right in front of me  
For a couple weeks  
So I can keep you safe_

 _'Cause you are my one and only  
You can wrap your fingers round my thumb and hold me tight  
You are my one and only  
You can wrap your fingers round my thumb and hold me tight  
And you'll be alright_

Harry ended with a D/F#, the sound still reverberating from the guitar after his voice stopped. A light sniff made him look up from his instrument. Ginny had her hands pressed together, held close to her nose, as if she were praying. "That was so beautiful, Harry," she moved her hands so they bracketed his face. The kiss that she placed on his lips would go into his top ten. Though it was short, he could have sworn he felt it in his bones. The love she felt for him filled him up like drink.

"Come on," Ginny stood and took the guitar from his hands, placing it in her vacated chair. "The baby's hungry, and I won't pass up the opportunity to have dinner with such an amazing artist."

* * *

Harry could feel tension in the air the moment he walked into his and Ginny's flat. It was like a distress signal was blaring. "Gin?" Harry called as he placed his bag on the small table beside the door. No response came, verbally, but as Harry made his way further into the sitting room he could hear the telltale sign of the shower being run.

Deciding he would go and give his wife a hand, maybe she couldn't reach a particularly dirty spot on her back, Harry opened the door to the lavatory. If Harry hadn't been distracted by the idea of his wife's naked body and the removal of his Auror uniform, he may have noticed the lack of Ginny's singing, something she partook in religiously when taking a shower.

However, once he pulled back the curtain, he knew something was horribly wrong. Ginny was sitting on the floor of the tub, water cascading around her. Her knees brought up high, tucked under her chin.

"Ginny? Love, what happened?" Harry climbed in, all excitement lost at the sight of his distressed wife. He sat behind her, legs spread around her, arms wrapped around her pulling her back into his chest. Ginny said nothing, but allowed Harry to enwrap her.

"Ginny?" Harry asked again, "what's wrong?"

Ginny let out a stuttering breath, before she turned her head to look at him. Silent tears ran down her face, as they mixed with the shower water. She opened her mouth, but visible choked, unable to say whatever was tormenting her. Harry waited patiently, keeping her as close as humanly possible.

She tried again, and this time she was able to croak out, "Harry, she's gone."

"Who's gone, luv?" Harry pressed. Had someone Ginny known died? Neither of them had really lost anyone since the war. The idea of someone else he loved dying struck Harry like lightning, creating a bubbling effect in his stomach. Not Luna. It couldn't have been Hermione. If it was Molly…

Ginny turned so she was facing him, sitting on her knees, the water now flowing down her back. She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around him, which Harry returned. He could feel her trying to steady herself, taking in deep breaths. Finally, she pulled back slightly, her eyes still shut.

"The baby, Harry," Ginny voice wavered, her emotions still too powerful to control.

Harry couldn't understand. He looked down at Ginny's stomach. There was still that bump he loved. Wouldn't that be gone if there was no baby? Wasn't she still eighteen weeks pregnant? He had felt their child kick only four days ago…

"What do you mean?" Harry asked trying to remain calm.

Ginny was still having an issue controlling herself, but she let out a shaky breath before explaining, "At my appointment today – Healer Young couldn't find a h-h-heartbeat." The story was taking so much from Ginny, but Harry needed to know. Normally, he would have told Ginny to forget about it for a while, rest, calm herself down, but he had to know. "Healer Young then checked – oh Harry!" Ginny fell back into his embrace. Her voice became muffled by his chest, but Harry could just make out the rest of her story. "She had moved into a bad position and the cord wrapped around her neck. She couldn't get blood – She – oh, I'm so sorry."

The water that had once been warm had turned cold as Harry held his wife; though Harry Potter wasn't a crier, tears flowed down his cheeks. "Are you okay?" He had to focus on one thing at a time. Right now, that would be his distraught wife.

Ginny didn't respond, but held him closer. Harry understood what it meant, that physically she was okay, but emotionally…

They stayed, sitting on the wet floor for an unknown amount of time, Harry whispering any words of comfort he could think of in Ginny's ear. It wasn't her fault, she couldn't haven known anything was wrong. Finally, Harry stood, take Ginny with him. Together they left the now frigid shower, barely caring to dry themselves, moving into their bedroom. They lay in their bed, curled close to one another. Ginny's head using Harry's chest as her pillow, her ear right over his heart.

* * *

Harry woke, still holding his wife. It took a moment for him to remember why his heart weighed ten times extra. His child was gone. His daughter… it had been a girl. A darling little girl.

He had to bite his lip to prevent himself from letting out a sob. Harry needed to stand up. To move. Slowly he detangled himself from Ginny, making sure to place her head comfortably on a pillow. Then he walked out of the bedroom.

Deciding to go into his office, he shut the door behind him and cast a quick Muffliato. The scream that escaped from his lips only stopped when his throat couldn't handle any more. He punched his desk, hit it as hard as he could until blood forming on his knuckles. Rage was coursing through him. He started to pace back in forth, trying to calm down. If Ginny woke up… He didn't want her to find him like this, blood streaming down his hand onto the carpet. Grabbing his wand for a second time, he cast a quick healing spell on the bloody cuts that covered his slowly swelling knuckles, then removed the red stains from the floor.

Harry sat in his desk chair, eyes closed, breathing in and out, counting to ten. Twenty. Thirty. Finally, he opened his eyes. His desk was in disarray from his angry attacks. He focused on organizing. Moving cases files here, straightening photos that had fallen. Mindlessly he worked, until one piece of parchment made him stop short.

That song he had written. The one he had written to sing to his child - his daughter – to fall asleep to. Harry's first instinct was to rip it to shreds. It shouldn't exist, not with her. He placed his fingers at the top, ready to pull the parchment apart, but then something made him stop.

He couldn't help but remember the look in Ginny's eyes as he had sung it. Her enthusiasm towards his words. His dreams. Could he destroy something she had loved so much? No, Harry realized, but how could he look at it without remembering all he had lost? Everything that was ripped from him.

He grabbed the quill that lay beside the scroll and added two final sentences.

 _'Cause you were just a small bump unborn for four months then torn from life_

 _Maybe you were needed up there but we're still unaware as why._

Placing the quill back on the desk, Harry took the newly finished tale; casting a drying spell on the ink and rolled it up tightly. He took a piece of string from inside his junk drawer at the bottom of the desk and tied it firmly around the parchment, then he placed it in the top drawer of his desk with all his hidden treasures. The diary his mother had written that he had found in the Potter vault when he turned eighteen, the keys to Sirius' motorbike, the photo album of his parents Hagrid had given him. He shut the drawer, deciding that one day he would re-read what he had written. One day when it wasn't so fresh.

Getting up he set off, back towards his bedroom. Ginny was still asleep, worn from the anguish she had dealt with that day. Harry crawled beside her and positioned them so he was holding her again. In her sleep she moved as close as she could towards him, clearly taking comfort in the embrace, just like he was. _One day_ , Harry thought his head resting on Ginny's, _one day maybe it won't hurt so much_.


	3. Hold my Girl

**Huge thanks to Arnel for editing this chapter. Based on the song _Hold my Girl_ by George Ezra. **

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Harry couldn't move. The Full Body-Bind Curse that held him place was as strong as ever. He couldn't even shut his eyes, as another body fell limp to the ground.

"Josiah!" The cool, calm voice that had been commanding the motley crew over the past twenty-four hours spoke again, making the young boy standing guard over Harry jump. "Potter is next."

Though the cruel voice was out of sight, Harry knew a harsh smile was lighting up his face. The young man — he must have been just of age — made eye contact with Harry. The kid didn't want to do it, Harry knew the signs. He wasn't a killer, but he had fallen in with the wrong crowd and now here he was, stuck with orders to kill the famous Harry Potter.

If he wasn't in such a tricky spot, Harry might have felt pity for this young man. However, there was no time for sympathy, especially if he wanted to get back to Ginny and James… James, the son who he had only known for six months. If he died here, his son would have less time than he had with Lily and James. Not to mention he would be leaving Ginny, his beautiful Ginny, a widow at the age of twenty-four. He would be leaving her with their son and what… just memories of him?

As the young Josiah pulled him across the floor by the collar of his shirt, Harry's mind stopped trying to will the curse to break and instead did the exact same thing it had done when he was seventeen and on the brink of death. It thought of Ginny. The way she had looked on their wedding day. Her hair falling down her back as she gave him that blazing look over her shoulder. The look of true devastation when they had their first miscarriage. The way her lips felt, as they moved along his neck, down onto his chest.

With a final heave, Josiah placed Harry in the center of the room. Over to his left Harry could now see the evil face of Kalvin Keegan, the man he had been tracking for the last three months, murderer of at least twenty witches and wizards. Not to mention an unknown number of Muggles.

Ginny. The last time he saw her they had argued about something so stupid. Looking back on it, ninety-nine percent of their fights had been pointless. There really wasn't a reason to get angry about who should have gone and done the shopping or if they should get a cat or not. No, in retrospect, Harry would buy her a hundred cats if he could only hold her one more time. Get to kiss her lips one last time.

Keegan nodded at Josiah, telling him to get on with it. Harry made a last-ditch effort to break the damn binds on him. Just one foot free, so he could kick his soon-to-be murderer. Of course, that didn't happen. Josiah pointed his wand a Harry, aiming right at his heart.

His heart. His Ginny. His James. The people he loved most and the people he had let down the most. James would never get to roll around in the garden with his father or ask awkwardly about girls while his dad try hard not to take the mickey out of him. No, James would miss out on all the things Harry himself had craved his whole life.

" _Ava –_ " Josiah's voice wavered but was cut short by a door opening violently. Lights filled the room hitting multiple targets, making bodies crumple. Keegan's men jumped into action countering the team of Aurors that had discovered the hideout.

Harry tried to shout, to warn his fellow Aurors, but the Silencing Spell was still holding him quiet. He glanced left, watching Malcolm Harvey Stun Josiah. Looking right he saw Keegan, an ice-cold stare glaring back at him. The snarl on Keegan's lips reminding Harry of a wolf ready to pounce on its dinner.

Keegan's dark wand pointed at him and then everything was black.

 **XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Why can't you stay out of hospitals? I swear we need to buy our own wing, Potter." Harry would know that sarcastic, loving tone anywhere.

"Gin?" It was as if he had swallowed an abundance of sand, his voice was so ruff and gravelly. Slowly he peeled his eyes opened to reveal the vivid red hair and freckles of his beautiful wife. His home. His Ginny.

"Harry," Ginny's voice was now soft and comforting as she placed her hand on his cheek. Her soulful, brown eyes staring at him full of concern. "How do you feel?"

How did he feel? He didn't feel any pain or anything like that. He looked around the room and realized he was in St. Mungo's. Now her comments from before made sense.

"Fine," He was able to croak. "Water?"

Ginny rushed to his bedside table and poured him a cup of water, which he drank greedily.

"What happened?" he asked as Ginny filled up the cup for a second time.

"You were kidnapped by Keegan. Apparently, for someone with an Invisibility Cloak you weren't very well hidden." Ah, Ginny's go to defense. Sarcasm and jokes.

Harry sat up, making Ginny squawk her disapproval, but he positioned himself so he could be on her level. She was pale, her freckles prominent. He took her hand that had been sitting on the side of his bed and interlaced their fingers.

"I'm sorry, Gin," he said, wanting her to understand he never would have left that morning if he had known there had been a chance… that he could have… "I'm so sorry."

Ginny let out a shaky breath, getting out of her chair and joining him up on the bed. "Budge up." They held each other close. Harry could hear her breathing level, taking comfort in having him near, just like he was with her.

 **XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Harry was released later that day, once a healer had checked him over, deeming him fit enough to rest in his own bed. Ginny dithered around, caring for him and James. Harry knew the mother-hen in Ginny had been freed, that she needed to tend to everyone, to keep herself content. Basically, becoming a temporary Molly Weasley until she felt like things were normal again.

This was fine with him. Hell, Harry was more than happy to watch Ginny rock James, singing a little lullaby. To him, nothing was more incredible than seeing Ginny with James. With their son. Well, maybe holding James in his own arms held just as much exquisiteness.

At night, Harry held Ginny close. Both craving the contact. As the days passed, Harry slowly explained the whole situation. Him being grabbed from behind, having to watch multiple men and women die right in front of him and being helpless to stop it. Ginny listened, her head resting on his chest, right over his heart.

On his third day of sabbatical, Harry entered his office intent on writing his account of the event for the file. Everything was methodical, even standard until he reached the part where his name was called by Keegan. His mind could see the room again, the shadows on the walls created by the flickering lights. The dank, dusty smell. The numerous bodies lying in the corner. His final thoughts… Ginny. In his final moments all he wanted was to hold his wife… to see his son… to apologize for leaving them.

He sat back in his chair, letting his neck fall over the top. With his upside-down view, he could see his Fender Classic resting against the wall.

Without realizing it, Harry stood up and grabbed the guitar, bring it back to his chair. He lightly strummed a few strings, enjoying the metallic feel. Letting his fingers position to a G chord he let his thumb play the note. Then he moved to a D, to an E minor, and finally a C/G.

Words started to come to mind. He thought about everything from the previous days. All the fear and all he had thought he was going to lose. Everything he would have left behind.

 _I've got time, I've got love  
Got confidence you'll rise above  
Give me a minute to hold my girl  
Give me a minute to hold my girl_

He let C/G note drift off into silence. Then, he grabbed a spare piece of parchment and started to scribble furiously.

 **XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

By the end of the week, everything felt back to normal in the Potter household. The only thing that was a little off was Harry going into his study every night once James was tucked in. Ginny knew he needed to conduct a final account of the events, but it didn't normally take him a week.

"Are you okay, Harry?" She asked knocking on the study door. "I have a cup of tea for you." Her go to excuse: want a cuppa?

"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry called through the wood. "Come on in."

Ginny turned the knob and was surprised to see her husband with a quill between his teeth and his guitar resting on his knee.

"I –" Harry took the feather out of his mouth. "I just finished."

"You've been writing a song?" It was rare for Harry to write songs, the most he had done lately with that instrument was to play some notes to entertain James. There had been that song he had wrote for… right before her miscarriage, but since then – nothing.

Harry gave her a small smile. "Yeah, I had some… some thoughts I needed to get out." He looked slightly apprehensive before asking, "Wanna hear it?"

Silently, Ginny pulled up a chair and sat next to Harry, waiting for him to be ready. He took a deep breath, reorganized his pages full of hastily jotted notes, and let his thumb fall down the strings.

 _I've been waiting for you  
To come around and tell me the truth  
'Bout everything that you're going through  
My girl you've got nothing to lose_

 _Cold nights and the Sunday mornings  
On your way and out of the grey_

 _I've got time, I've got love  
Got confidence you'll rise above  
Give me a minute to hold my girl  
Give me a minute to hold my girl_

 _Crowded town or silent bed  
Pick a place to rest your head  
Give me a minute to hold my girl  
Give me a minute to hold my girl_

 _I've been dreaming 'bout us  
Working hard and saving it up  
We'll go and see the man on the moon  
My girl we've got nothing to lose_

 _Cold nights and the Sunday mornings  
On your way and out of the grey_

 _I've got time, I've got love  
Got confidence you'll rise above  
Give me a minute to hold my girl  
Give me a minute to hold my girl_

 _Crowded town or silent bed  
Pick a place to rest your head and  
Give me a minute to hold my girl  
Give me a minute to hold my girl_

 _My girl, my girl  
It takes one hot second to turn it around  
It takes one hot second to turn it around_

 _I've got time, I've got love  
Got confidence you'll rise above  
Give me a minute to hold my girl  
Give me a minute to hold my girl_

 _Crowded town or silent bed  
Pick a place to rest your head and  
Give me a minute to hold my girl  
Give me a minute to hold my girl_

 _I've got time, I've got love  
Got confidence you'll rise above  
Give me a minute to hold my girl  
Give me a minute to hold my girl_

 _Crowded town or silent bed  
Pick a place to rest your head and  
Give me a minute to hold my girl  
Give me a minute to hold my girl_

Harry strummed a final chord, looking up from the strings. "I just couldn't stop thinking," he explained softly. "Everything I would losing if I had died."

The words struck Ginny like a falling icicle, stabbing straight though her. She tried to ignore how nervous it made her every time Harry went out on a mission. Harry was doing something he truly believed in that was worth everything - but it still - if she lost him.

"I only thought of myself, but once I really started to think about it," Harry placed his guitar on the floor beside his chair and moved himself closer to her, resting his hand on her leg. "You and James lose as well. We've never talked about it, but," he hesitated, taking in a steadying breath, "are you truly okay with me being an Auror?"

Ginny hesitated. She wanted to say she was fine with it, but after this last week… "I mean..." Lying wouldn't do any good at this point. "I hate feeling like you won't come back." Once the first word was out, there was no stopping her. "I believe in you and I want you to do what you think is right. If that means you being an Auror then, I want that... but… Harry."

It was like something was pressing hard onto her chest and lungs, making her choke up. Harry seemed to understand what was happening to her, as he pulled her onto his lap, cradling her head to his neck. An uninvited sob formed in her chest and crawled out her mouth. Merlin, it hit her harder than she thought. Just remembering the way Harry looked, lying motionless in that bed for hours, barely breathing. No… she had hated every second of it.

"Gin," Harry's voice was soft, the same tone he comforted a crying James with. "Robards' is retiring, and he wants me to take his place."

More pressure, more weight seemed to fall upon Ginny. Robards was the head of the Aurors. If he wanted Harry to take his place, well, that was incredible first and foremost, but…

"It would mean," Harry started rubbing soothing circles on her back, "that I would be doing more paper work than ever. I might even have to stop going out into the field entirely. Well," he amended. "Except for big cases where we need all hands-on deck."

Ginny's mind was running a mile a minute. "And you want to do that?" Harry had never been one for sitting around, waiting for others to do the dirty work. The idea that he was volunteering…

"I mean, I'm already stuck doing paper work all the time. Why not get a pay raise as well?" One of Harry's hands had come to her chin, lifting her gaze up to his. "I was honestly afraid I wouldn't come back to you, Gin," Harry sounded like a man twice his age, a breathlessness evident in his own words. "If taking this job means I'm more likely to come home to you and James, it will be worth the headache of paperwork."

Ginny kissed him hard, wanting him to understand. He was willing to change a little part of himself for them… for her. Harry brought her in as close as humanly possible. His arms holding tightly to her waist.

"Gin," Harry pulled slightly back, their heavy breaths still mixing. "You and James are everything to me, and though I know you could live on if I died…" Ginny wanted to argue, but Harry sensed her interruption, because he pressed a quick, silencing kiss to her lips before continuing. "You would raise James to be the best man, but I don't want you to have to do it alone. I want to be there to see everything he becomes. I want to be there when he needs encouragement, when he needs someone to talk to."

Harry gave a small chuckle. "Hell, I want to be there when he needs to receive a Howler. Which he will, because just look at who we named him after." Ginny couldn't help but smile, because she knew he was right. "I want to be there to support you when something goes wrong." He moved one hand to cup her cheek. "To hold you when you need comfort."

This was more than Ginny had bargained for when she had made his cup of tea. Tears formed in her eyes, a few escaping before she blinked them away. "What am I going to do with you, Harry James," she asked thickly.

"You've already given me everything I've ever wanted. I need nothing else from you."

Ginny sniffed. "I hate it when you go all sappy on me. It never fails to turn me into a human hosepipe."

Harry laughed and kissed her again. "Sorry 'bout that."

"Just don't let it happen again. I would hate to become one of those couples that fire call each other every day and argue over who disconnects first."

"I'll do my best."


End file.
